


Rock My World (In 24 Hours Or Less)

by Krissielee



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6210574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissielee/pseuds/Krissielee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Posh girls love a bit of rough,” Eggsy said. But he’d never even had sex before. </p>
<p>The virgin!Eggsy fic nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock My World (In 24 Hours Or Less)

**Author's Note:**

> *buries face in hands* My awful smut. Why do I do this to myself?
> 
> This is 'cause Jaybee is a terrible influence on me.
> 
> Betaed by Knuckleblister, as always, because she's the best.
> 
> Title by Cam 'cause I can't title things myself. <3

Eggsy was nervous.

Really nervous.

Sure, he talked a big game, had acted cocky when he, Charlie, and Roxy were given their test, but inside he was a mess.

He had to convince a girl to sleep with him, and he’d never even had sex before.

“Posh girls love a bit of rough,” he’d said. And yeah, they did—he was no stranger to going out dancing and being fawned over by pretty things, but … call him romantic, or misguided, or just too dumb to take advantage of a favourable situation, but he’d always wanted it to _mean_ something.

He’d seen enough Bond films to know spies sometimes did shit like that, but he’d sort of pushed it aside. The guns, the obstacle courses, the language studies, observations training, those were all fun, things that were sort of like the marines but even better. Using his dick to divine information out of someone was terrifying.

Hopefully she wouldn’t laugh at him, in any case.

It was almost a relief to find out that it was all a sick joke—when he’d woken up tied to the train tracks and an instant from death, all he could think about was how he’d never grassed before, and he certainly wasn’t giving that bastard anything on Harry.

Harry fucking Hart.

His last thought was going to be of the man who saved him from gaol time and took down Dean’s gang from one stupid off-colour remark. He’d be splattered across the train tunnel, and maybe Harry would have to go tell his mum he’d lost another of her men.

“Congratulations. Bloody well done.”

The warmth in Harry’s voice, the pride … it was only years of hiding his emotions that kept him from grinning like a fool and blurting words of love or lust or something.

Finding out they were getting 24 hours together, _alone_ , was a bit much for Eggsy, and when they started making martinis, he may have had a few too many. Harry had lost his tie, unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, and he still had those fucking shoulder holsters on, and it was only the slightly shocked look on Harry’s face that clued Eggsy in that he’d just offered-- _out loud_ \--to suck his prick.

In for a penny, in for a pound, yeah?

“You’re well fit, Harry. If you wasn’t so far out of my league I’d be on my knees already.”

Harry was silent, and Eggsy’s cheeks were flaming. He wondered if he could blame the alcohol, was already making excuses to leave—

“Come here, Eggsy.” The soft command was impossible to resist, and Eggsy crossed the study, rounding the desk to stand in front of Harry. Another moment of silence and Eggsy started to back up when Harry caught his hand, pulling him close for a tentative kiss, one that tasted of the alcohol and lemon they’d been drinking. Eggsy whimpered and opened his mouth against Harry’s, forgetting everything but _want_ for the man.

“On your knees.” And Eggsy breathed a yes as he dropped down, lips parting as he looked down at Harry’s crotch, his cock straining under those bespoke trousers.

Only then, when his hands shook as he reached for Harry’s belt did he look up shyly. “I’ve never,” he mumbled, embarrassed that here he was, so close he could smell Harry’s desire, and he was admitting to being a fucking virgin at 23. Not that he thought Harry would judge him for it; it was just embarrassing to admit that the most action he’d ever seen had been with his right hand and the dildo he’d ordered online on his 15th birthday, stashed away in a box under his bed where Dean wouldn’t be able to find it.

Harry, just as Eggsy had known he would, hid his shock like a true gent. He smiled gently, cupping Eggsy’s cheek. “You don’t have to,” he offered, but Eggsy shook his head. He wanted this, more than he wanted anything. He wanted to take Harry apart, even if he made a fool of himself trying to do so.

And when he had Harry’s beautifully tailored trousers tucked around his thighs, he licked his lips. Harry was … well, he was smaller than the guys in the porn Eggsy watched, but he was hard, his foreskin pulled back from the head. Harry wanted it, and Eggsy’s own cock throbbed at the sight.

“Fuck me, you’re gorge,” Eggsy breathed, hands splayed on Harry’s thighs as he leaned in, eager for a taste. He dove in, mouth wide as he engulfed the head of Harry’s erection, mouth feeling overfull as he tried to work out what to do.

No teeth, use his tongue, suck, move … at least Harry was making some really fucking beautiful whimpers, fingers running through Eggsy’s hair, encouraging him to do better, take him deeper. Harry tasted good, like soap and sweat and something heady that Eggsy couldn’t get enough of.

“You’re doing so well, Eggsy,” Harry breathed, and even Eggsy could tell the man was holding back; his thighs were shaking, fingertips digging into his scalp even as his voice stayed calm and even, his pride and lust so clear Eggsy couldn’t help but whimper around the man’s cock. He wanted to be more for Harry, wanted to be _good_ , and he forced himself not to cough or gag as he took more of Harry into his mouth, the bitter-salty precome filling his senses and making him a bit dizzy.

Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen. Right. Right, he needed to breathe, too, or he wouldn’t get to do this again, never get to know all the sounds Harry made in the throes of pleasure. He jerked back, gasping for air, smiling bashfully up at the man.

“I want more,” Eggsy rasped, voice thick, lips full and covered in spit. Harry was either too polite or just too much a gentleman to comment as Eggsy wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Please.”

“You’ve never. You don’t have to,” Harry began, and Eggsy whined, pulling himself up to Harry’s level, nuzzling the side of his face.

“Jus’ wanted it to mean something more’n a quick shag in the toilet,” Eggsy said. “You’d never treat me that way, yeah?”

“Of course not,” Harry said, and he sounded so offended Eggsy nearly laughed. “But we have time. All the time in the world, Eggsy.”

Fuck gentlemanly morals and shit, Eggsy thought, standing before Harry and stripping his clothes off, tossing them toward the chair, trainers toed off and kicked into the corner. He didn’t stop, didn’t meet Harry’s eyes until he was completely bare.

“Look at me,” Eggsy said, false bravado keeping his voice steady despite the nerves. “I want this. _You_. Just ‘cause you’re my first don’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

Harry watched Eggsy for a while, eyes sweeping over the younger man’s body, and Eggsy began to blush under the attention.

“If you don’t wanna, jus’ say it. Don’t make me stand here like an idiot,” Eggsy mumbled.

“I want,” Harry hurried to correct, “very much.”

“Which way to your room?”

Harry stood, still-hard prick hanging from his trousers as he held them up with one hand, leading the way down the hall to his bedroom.

Harry’s bedroom was warm, comfortable, just like the man himself. Eggsy already felt at home in there, surrounded by Harry’s scent and belongings. It felt like _home_.

“Right, then,” Eggsy said, smiling at Harry before climbing onto the bed, spreading his legs a bit. His body wasn’t bad; not after so long in Kingsman training. He’d bulked up a bit; his thighs had always been thick, but now he had a chest and arms to match in power. The scars were probably a bit detracting, but … Harry had scars, too, he was sure, and perhaps it was stupidly poetic, but maybe they were both broken so they could fit together better. “Let’s … do it.” His voice only wavered a little.

“We’ll go slow, my dear boy,” Harry said, slowly undressing, though Eggsy briefly mourned the loss of those holsters, but Harry’s chest was beautiful, leading down to a tapered waist, faded scars hidden under a light smattering of hair. He was gorgeous, Eggsy thought, and when he pushed his trousers to the floor, fetching supplies from his nightstand, Eggsy swallowed nervously. He _wanted_ it, but it was still scary.

Eggsy pulled his legs up to his chest, heart hammering as Harry squeezed a bit of lube onto his fingers. “I can take a finger,” he promised when the man teased, circling his hole playfully, pressing but never penetrating. “Gimme, please?”

That finger breached him, and Eggsy sucked in a breath. Someone else’s fingers in his arse felt vastly different than his own did, different than his dildo. _Harry’s_ fingers felt different. The sounds Eggsy was making were mildly embarrassing, but he didn’t care. Harry was so gentle, Eggsy opening easily under his touches. Harry was murmuring sweet words, lips trailing over Eggsy’s face and neck, and Eggsy felt practically worshipped by the time Harry got a second finger into him, then a third.

“You look so beautiful, Eggsy,” Harry whispered, and he did sound pretty reverent—if Eggsy weren’t trying so hard not to cream on the spot he’d maybe have teased the man a bit. Instead, he merely whimpered.

“C’mon, guv,” he whimpered, “I can take more.” After all, if Harry felt this good two-knuckles deep, his dick would feel even better, Eggsy bet.

And then Harry’s hand was gone, reaching for a rubber and rolling it over his erection. Eggsy’s heart was pounding; now that it was here he was nervous, but fuck, he wanted it.

More lube was spread over his arsehole, and suddenly Harry was there, pressing forward relentlessly. Eggsy whimpered; it was nothing like his toy. Harry was more insistent, thicker, hotter, and Eggsy tensed involuntarily. “Relax, my boy,” Harry soothed, large hands wrapped around Eggsy’s thighs, digging in enough that Eggsy bet there’d be bruises when they were through.

He was definitely taking pictures to remind himself that this was really happening.

But then Harry was fully inside of him, thick and throbbing, and Eggsy grasped at Harry’s shoulders as he got used to how much different, how much _better_ , it felt this way.

“Oh, Eggsy,” Harry breathed, his voice strained and tight, mouth pressed against his neck and shoulders. “You feel …”

“Yeah,” Eggsy agreed. He was a bit sore already; he would definitely be feeling this tomorrow during the final test, but it would be worth it. “Feels fuckin’ perf.”

It only got better when Harry began to move, too, hot and hard and hitting parts of Eggsy only that dildo had touched before. Eggsy whimpered and whined, thighs wrapping around Harry’s waist to keep him close.

“I’m afraid I won’t last too long, my boy,” Harry admitted, and Eggsy smiled.

“S’okay. I won’t, either,” Eggsy replied. “Been thinkin’ about this since the pub.”

Harry groaned at that, and Eggsy smiled—that sound was beautiful, and he wanted to hear it again. Carefully, he tried to tighten his arse around Harry’s prick, eager to wring more noises from the older man, and his orgasm, too. He wanted to be sloppy-wet with Harry’s come, sheets sticking to his thighs come morning. Harry gasped, hips jerking forward a bit, and Eggsy cried out.

Harry didn’t stop; he just pulled out a bit before slowly thrusting into Eggsy, and oh, fuck, but Eggsy’s toy and his fingers had never been this good. He felt over-full, unable to catch his breath, like he’d never get enough and couldn’t touch enough of Harry besides.

“Guv, m’gonna come,” Eggsy gasped, tugging Harry closer for a breathy, open-mouthed kiss. “Feels good.”

Harry reached down, wrapping a hand around Eggsy’s cock, drawn up close to his stomach, so desperate he was to come. It almost hurt as Harry stroked, a counterpoint to his thrusts into Eggsy’s body. He was close, too, panting against Eggsy’s ear as he breathed soft words of love and tenderness and perfection. Eggsy whimpered, legs wrapping around Harry’s waist when he got too close.

Then Harry hit his prostate.

Eggsy keened, loud and long, and embarrassingly high-pitched, but it only spurred Harry on—he thrust harder, faster, unerringly hitting that same spot until Eggsy came, making a white-hot mess of both of their chests and stomachs. Harry followed him over, fingers pressing bruises into Eggsy’s sides as he stiffened, moaning Eggsy’s name in a way that sounded so much better than anything Eggsy’d ever heard in a porno before.

“Fuck, Harry, that was …” Worth the wait. Fucking amazing. Better than Eggsy had ever imagined it could be.

Harry smiled softly, hair loose and falling sweaty over his forehead as he touched Eggsy’s cheek. “Not bad for a first time?” he teased.

“Ain’t gonna complain,” Eggsy said, wincing when Harry pulled out, discarding the condom before wrapping Eggsy back into his arms. “Gonna do this again when I’m an agent?”

“Every night,” Harry promised, eyes warm and soft.

“Holdin’ you to that,” Eggsy said, shifting a little uncomfortably to press his face to Harry’s neck as he calmed down and let his body readjust to being so _empty_. If he always felt so empty after, he was going to want Harry in him constantly.

“Sleep now, Eggsy. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning,” Harry promised.

Eggsy snorted. “Wore you out, old man,” he mumbled, proudly, words muffled against Harry’s skin.

He fell asleep to the feel of Harry’s fingers gently brushing along his back, safe and secure.


End file.
